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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23935639">Turn Around</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse'>JoMouse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TFLN [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Chance Meetings, Don't copy to another site, Fate, M/M, Mutual Pining, Texting, Texts From Last Night</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:55:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23935639</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam wakes up to a text from an unknown number.</p>
<p>Based on TFLN (586): It was one of those mornings when I wake up and feel like I have to say sorry to the whole world</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zayn Malik/Liam Payne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>TFLN [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1390459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Turn Around</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Greetings and salutations!</p>
<p>Well, I had set a personal goal to post at least one story from each fandom I write for each month and I just realized last night that I hadn't posted anything for Ziam.</p>
<p>I started this one quite awhile ago but finished it last night and my beautiful beta <a href="HTTP://quietzap.tumblr.com">Marie</a> took care of it for me so I could still post it this month.</p>
<p>With everything going on, I hope to stick to my goal but with each bomb dropped, I'm having a harder and harder time creating for Ziam so I'm not giving up, but I might not be able to meet the actual every month goal. I'm sorry.</p>
<p>I hope you enjoy this story - I had fun writing it.</p>
<p>xx-Joey</p>
<p>Don't know 'em. Don't own 'em. Don't show 'em.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Liam woke up to his phone buzzing on the nightstand. Groaning, he rubbed at his eyes before running his hands through his hair and tugging at the ends to stimulate the blood flow to his brain. Once he could keep his eyes open against the bright lights shining through the curtains he’d forgotten to close, he reached for his phone. He’d expected it to be his mum wondering where he was since he’d promised to stop by that day for a visit, but instead, it was an unknown number.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was one of those mornings when I wake up and feel like I have to say sorry to the whole world.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam stared at the words, unsure how to respond or if he even should respond. He thought about just ignoring it and going on with his day, but then his conscience got the better of him and he started to type back that the person had the wrong number. He had gotten two words typed when another text came through.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So, I can’t apologize to the world, I thought I’d start with you. I’m sorry.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam frowned at the words as he hurried to reply. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I think you have the wrong number.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Three dots appeared and disappeared several times over the next few minutes before a response finally came through. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously? You mean to say this isn’t Brody? Fuck, he gave me a fake number. Well, guess it wasn’t fake, just not his.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam snorted. What kind of name was Brody? Clearly the name of an utter wanker. Shaking his head, he started to set the phone aside when it buzzed again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, another apology to the world down then, I’m sorry to disturb you. I hope I didn’t wake you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laughing, Liam found himself responding before he could stop himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No worries. Needed to be up for lunch with my folks. Good luck with your world apologies.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tossed the phone on his bed as he headed into the shower and when he came out there were three new messages and only one of them was from his mum. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, I hope you have a good lunch. I don’t get to see mine enough. Give them my love.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam shook his head as he read over the first message. Whoever this was, was definitely a bit crazy but seemed good at heart. The final message was the shortest yet but the most shocking. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m Zayn. So you have a name to give them.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam gaped at his phone as he read the name over; he was pretty sure there was more than one Zayn in the world, but what were the chances two of them would have local numbers? There probably was a slight chance, but it wasn’t impossible that Zayn Malik, the DJ from the club he and his friend Andy went to on Friday nights was his mysterious texter. He’d just seen him the night before and put up with endless harassment from Andy which he only got away with because he’d known Liam since primary school.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kept staring at his phone, debating responding when it buzzed again and he nearly dropped it until he realized it was his mum calling and he put the phone to his ear, answering with, “I’m on my way, mum. Overslept a bit.” He smiled as she began to fuss over him and told him to hurry because breakfast was ready. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t until he was sitting on the bus that he remembered the texts and made a decision. Taking a deep breath, he sent off, </span>
  <em>
    <span>My name’s Liam. It’s nice to meet you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zayn stared at the sketchpad in front of him. He had a deadline in his Intro to Graphic Arts class and he was at a complete loss for what to put on the paper. He yawned and scratched at his bare chest before sliding his pencil behind one ear and standing to stretch. He reached for his phone, realizing it was dead and carried it and his sketchpad into his room to plug it in. As he waited for it to come back on, he thought about that morning. And the night before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d been DJing at Verody for a few years by that point and it was about a year into his run that he’d first spotted a man in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with his friends, glass held over his head as he rolled his hips in a way that should be illegal outside of a strip club. It had only been a brief glimpse but it had been enough that Zayn started looking for him every time that he worked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The night before he’d had a shorter than normal shift because a new DJ had been auditioning and when Zayn had spotted the guy near one of the bars, a hand over his face while he shoved at the man with him, he’d made the decision to try and talk to him. Unfortunately, when he managed to get across the bar, he was gone and after fifteen minutes of trying to find him, he’d given up and hooked up with a guy that looked a bit like his guy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d drank too much and the night spun out of control until he’d woken up this morning, alone, with a dark feeling of dread and very little memory of the night before. He’d grabbed his phone and the scrap of paper that Brody had left his number on, punching it into his phone and sending off a text.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he’d discovered it wasn’t Brody that he was texting, he should’ve stopped and just gone on with his day, but he found himself continuing. A small part of him liked to pretend that who he was texting was his guy from the club, but that the likelihood of that being true was somewhere between impossible and no way in hell. Still, the guy was nice and hadn’t just blown him off. He knew they would probably never text again, but it had been enough to make him smile and set his day off on the right foot despite his raging hangover.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, as the sun was going down outside his flat, he wondered if Liam was thinking about their texts and then mentally berated himself for acting like a moon-eyed, hormone-ridden, absolutely pathetic teenager. He wouldn’t even be acting this way if he hadn’t convinced his brain that Liam was his guy from the club and he spent five minutes lecturing himself on his inability to separate fantasy from reality.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grabbing his sketchpad, he settled on his bed and began to sketch. The assignment had been to design a superhero and Zayn, despite his obsession with superheroes, was at a loss for what to create, so he started with a basic body sketch, a cape, a featureless face, and a mask ala Green Lantern. He sketched in muscles and then moved back up to the face, his mind wandering as his pencil moved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His lips were moving along with the music playing softly from his phone sitting on the nightstand. His eyelids grew heavy as he finished the details on the jawline of the drawing, so he figured he would finish it after a nap, as long as he didn’t hate what he’d managed to create when he woke up. Before setting it aside, he ran a critical eye over the page, shaking his head as the features he’d drawn reminded him of the man from the club. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d never gotten a good look at the man’s eyes, so the openings in the mask were empty. He longed to get close enough to be able to discern the colour or the way the light sparkled in them. The jawline and stubble were definitely him, as was the soft swoop of hair on top of his head and he already knew which markers he’d use to ink in the colours, the soft caramel colour of the hair always shining in the flashing lights of the club. Chuckling, he put the sketchpad aside and reached for his phone, nearly dropping it when a text came through as soon as he’d picked it up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My parents send their love. I had to tell them we met in class because they are terribly nosy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zayn chuckled, surprised he’d heard from Liam again. He hadn’t really thought he would but the words sent a zing of happiness through him. His exhaustion disappeared and he bit back a smile as he started to reply, freezing when another message came through before he could finish even one word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is weird isn’t it? I’m sorry if I’m bothering you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zayn’s chuckle became a full-blown laugh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not a bother. I was about to take a nap, but it can wait if you need to talk to someone your own age. Or at least I assume we’re the same age if we met in class. What class did we meet in? Just so I can keep our story straight when I meet your parents.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hit send before he realized what he’d typed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>When</span>
  </em>
  <span> not </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like he was already making a space for himself in this Liam’s life. He scrambled to come up with something else to say, another apology for his stupidity but his fingers were blocks of ice and refused to touch even one letter on the keyboard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Introduction to Comic Studies. It’s a real class. I promise.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zayn gaped at his phone. He knew it was a real class. Was very well aware just how real it was, in fact, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Understand Comics by Scott McCloud, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the textbook for the course, sat on his nightstand underneath an empty water bottle</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was an online course, so it was completely possible for Liam to be in his class without Zayn even knowing, but the coincidence of it made his mind scream, “If this is possible then it’s possible he’s your guy from the club!” </span>
</p>
<p><span>As he continued to stare at his phone, his mind a broken record of “It’s Possible”</span> <span>from Seussical the Musical, another message came through.</span></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Figured it would be my geekiness that would finally scare you off. This is why you can’t have nice things, Liam.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zayn raced to respond and his thumb slid over the phone icon at the top of the screen and suddenly there was ringing coming from his phone, broken by a quiet and confused. “Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Er...Hi, Liam,” he managed to get out, chewing his lip again. “I was trying to text you back and my finger slipped. Sorry.” The chuckle that responded was warm and Zayn laid a hand over his stomach, deciding right then that even if this wasn’t his guy from the club he still wanted to get to know him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright. At least I know I didn’t scare you off completely,” he responded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all! Do you have the online course for Intro to Comic Studies? With Tanner?” He crossed his fingers that there wasn’t more than one Uni teaching the course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you stalking me? Is this some kind of joke?” Liam asked, his voice suddenly nervous, sounding like he was one second from hanging up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Zayn shouted, startling himself into a laugh. “No,” he repeated at a quieter volume. “I’m in the class. I’m a graphic arts major with a comic studies minor,” he explained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are other courses about comics?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, are you not studying them?” Zayn stood up from his bed, setting the sketchpad on his dresser and headed into the kitchen, his stomach rumbling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I needed another course for my scholarship and it fit my schedule and sounded pretty cool. It’s a lot harder than I expected though. A lot more reading.” He let out a sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thought it’d be a blowoff?” Zayn asked, his hackles rising slightly; his dream was to create graphic novels and he took the medium very seriously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, but I thought it would be a little less...academic. I sound like an arse, don’t I?” Zayn heard him muttering ‘stupid Liam’ under his breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sound like someone who needs help with the class,” Zayn countered, pulling open the fridge and wrinkling his nose at the lack of food inside. He picked up Chinese takeaway from a few days before and sniffed it. Shrugging, he dumped it on a plate and put it in the microwave. “And now, you can ask me for help if you need it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They started out discussing the current assignment and soon ventured off into other topics, discovering similar interests in movies and music. Zayn ate his leftovers while listening to Liam talk about lunch with his family and his two sisters and while he washed the plate, Zayn shared his own stories. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t until his flatmate came in that Zayn checked the time. It was already five o’clock and he had to be at the club at ten. “Liam, mate, I gotta get going. I have to work tonight and need a couple of hours sleep before I go in or I’m going to be a zombie. I’ll talk to you again, yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hung up before Liam could do more than agree and he made his way to his room, dropping onto his bed. He set his alarm for eight and prayed he actually got sleep. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam stared at the phone in his hand, amazed at the time of the call. They’d been talking for a few hours and it had only felt like minutes. He plugged his phone in and responded to the text Andy had sent while he’d been talking to Zayn. Then he headed into the shower to get ready to go out for the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The club was loud and Liam headed straight for the bar while Andy went in search of his girlfriend who was meeting them there. He ordered a Bacardi and Coke and leaned back on the bar, his eyes drawn to the DJ stand. DJ Malik stood there, headphones on and a smile on his face while his hands moved over the controls in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While Liam watched, he saw DJ Malik scan the crowd dancing below him, a frown crossing his face briefly and he wondered who he was looking for and not finding. He took another sip of his drink and headed toward the dancefloor, the beat drawing him there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the music flowed from song to song, Liam closed his eyes enjoying the music as it flowed through him. He’d lost his glass at some point and pulled off his button-up, tying it around his waist and leaving him in his jeans and a white vest that was sticking to his skin. When he felt sweat dripping from his hair into his eyes, he made his way back to the bar for a bottle of water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled his phone to see if Andy had texted him, he hadn’t seen his friend since they’d gotten there, but the only text he got was from Zayn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Work is crazy but I’m getting a break soon. What are you doing tonight?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam laughed as he found a dark corner and leaned against the wall to respond. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At a club. Think my friend ditched me. Addison Lee home for me. Where do you work?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A response didn’t come right away, but Liam figured that Zayn had said he would be taking a break soon and probably wasn’t going to be able to respond until then. While he waited, he sipped his water and looked up towards the DJ stand. DJ Malik was talking with someone and laughing before he pulled his phone down and glanced at it, lips parting for a moment before he looked up and around the club. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes passed over Liam once before he turned his attention back to his phone, taking off his headphones with one hand while typing out a text with the other. He moved to the edge of the platform where his equipment was set up and looked out over the bar just as Liam’s phone buzzed in his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What club?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam tilted his head, studying the two words before sending back </span>
  <em>
    <span>Verody.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Once he hit send, he looked up and swore DJ Malik was looking right at him, his phone in front of him, the screen lighting up his face as he looked down at it, his lips breaking into a smile. DJ Malik held his phone up and a moment later, Liam’s phone buzzed again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Opening the message, he found a photo of himself and he looked up at the DJ stand, but DJ Malik, DJ </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zayn</span>
  </em>
  <span> Malik, his Zayn, was gone. He took a few steps away from the wall, trying to figure out where he had gone. Pushing through the crowd, he tried to get closer to the stairs that led up to the DJ booth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a large guy standing in front of the stairs and Liam’s head dropped and he gave up, getting ready to head home when his phone buzzed again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Turn around</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whirled around so quickly that he lost his footing and stumbled, thankfully caught by someone. Looking up, he was staring into DJ Malik’s eyes and his mouth dried out. “Hi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Zayn responded. “I’m hoping I’m right and you’re Liam and tonight hasn’t just been a crazy string of coincidences.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m definitely Liam. And you’re Zayn.” He made himself stand up, licking his lips as he grinned at him. “I was hoping it was you. I come here to see you DJ all the time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see you dancing all the time and I had hoped it was you, too. What are the odds that someone would give me your number to blow me off?” Zayn teased. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You watch me dancing?” Liam asked just as the music grew louder and Zayn frowned at him. He pulled his phone out and texted: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Can you leave?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zayn read his phone and then looked up towards the DJ stand. A guy with brown hair was leaning over and looking down at them and when he spotted them he waved and used two fingers to push his fringe off his forehead. Zayn pointed to Liam and then towards the door and the guy nodded and gave him a thumbs up. Grabbing Liam’s hand, Zayn tugged him towards the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took them a few minutes to get outside, their ears ringing slightly as they took breaths of air that wasn’t heavy of sweat and heat. It took a moment for Liam to realize that Zayn hadn’t let go of his hand and was leading him down the street toward some neon light in the distance. They walked in silence, giving each other shy smiles and bumping shoulders until they reached the diner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dropping into a booth across from each other, Liam ordered a soda while Zayn got coffee. The silence continued between them for a few minutes before Zayn started talking about the class they shared and the assignment that was due the following week which he was almost done with and Liam had only gotten a couple of paragraphs completed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like the conversation earlier, it went from there into a myriad of topics until their waitress came up and quietly told them they were closing. “Sorry,” Liam told her and she waved them off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stood outside the diner and Liam pulled his phone out to call for a ride home. “I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he told Zayn, smiling at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or you could walk a few streets that way and hang out at mine for a bit,” Zayn suggested. “No pressure, but I can show you the drawing I’m working on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam moved closer to him, reaching for his hand. “I think I’d like that, but you said it wasn’t done.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zayn looked up at him, studying him carefully until Liam felt like he should look away but when he tried, Zayn cupped his cheek and kept him from moving. “I only need to finish the eyes and I think I can do that now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait? My eyes?” Liam asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your eyes,” Zayn told him, seriously before running a finger over his lips and then his jaw. “Already had these.” He moved his hands up to his hair and made a face. “And a less sweaty version of your hair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They laughed and Liam couldn’t help but lean in to kiss him. Zayn didn't move and Liam took a step back, apologizing. Of course he’d read the situation wrong. “I’ll just call for a ride,” he muttered, pulling his phone out and heading away down the street.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was pulling up the app for a ride when he got a text from Zayn. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Turn around.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning, he was surprised to find Zayn right behind him and before he could say anything, Zayn grabbed him by the center of his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come say 'hi' on tumblr. I'm josjournal over there!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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